...in
the land of the Kree and the home of the braves...  |
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A
Romantic State of Union. by
Jon Dunmore © 18 Nov 2006.
"Romantic
comedies" have long been relegated to the demeaning stable of Chick Flicks
because their sophomoric bent allows them no breadth of intelligence or forays
into behavior with balls - pussies browbeat men into behaving like pussies, whilst
pulp novella situations play out in a world inhabited by pussified male models
and Jennifer Lopez. Director
Rob Reiner's The American President is exactly the opposite; not only is
the male protagonist anything but a pussy, or unlikely to be pushed into being
one, the movie is intelligent and charming, yet masculine enough for men to appreciate,
with astute writing and full-bodied characters, and takes into account the fact
that some viewers can apprehend more than just boomboxes outside bedroom windows
or fart jokes. Michael
Douglas is The American President, Andrew Shepherd, a widower with another term
election looming. Annette Bening is lobbyist Sydney Ellen Wade, whom he falls
for. The obstacle between the smitten lovers is nothing short of the aura of the
Presidency itself, and writer Aaron Sorkin (A Few Good Men) brings a depth
of humanity and humor to this situation that is sorely lacking in American love
stories. Douglas
effortlessly inhabits the President's mantle and it is a constant joy to see him
imbue this office with a power that we know the real President does not have,
a poignancy we know the real President does not possess and a humanity we know
the real President has long since lost. (As in most American movies portraying
the Presidential post, the refrain must unfortunately read, "We can dream,
can't we?") When
President Shepherd orders an attack on a foreign country, his concern is for the
civilians with families who will be working the foreign embassy when it gets bombed;
it is a heart-wrenching decision for him - as opposed to the real life President
G.W. Bush's flippancy when asked whether he suffered any pangs of conscience after
greenlighting the Iraq war, "I made the decision. I sleep well at night."
To the real life President, "only one thing matters - winning." Sociological
disparities like this litter the film: we realize that opposing party leader,
Bob Rumson's (Richard Dreyfuss) smearing of the President's love life and his
half-baked jabs at Shepherd's flag-burning, hippie girlfriend were reined in by
the film-makers, after being aware of the real-life President's office stooping
to outright lies to blacken its opposition (Bush versus Kerry, 2004). And
though it is obvious much White House protocol was passed over with a wave of
the Hollywood wand, the movie is so well-made that these deficiencies seem like
trivialities. Supporting
players are suitably brilliant: Martin Sheen, as Shepherd's right-hand man and
confidante, Michael J. Fox (reprising his role as some kind of Alex Keaton within
the President's cabinet), David Paymer (the role of pollster couldn't be more
suited to a character actor so jumpy and uncomfortable), and John Mahoney (the
character actor with his picture next to "father figure" in the dictionary). The
American President never loses its focus on the love story - the element which
actually holds our attention, rather than make us wince, due to its being played
out by intelligent adults, instead of 16-to-20 year-olds making all their decisions
under the influence of hormones and beer, or pussified male models and Jennifer
Lopez. Witnessing the chemistry between Shepherd and Wade, we can't help but speculate
that if the real-life Presidency could experience one-tenth of this heady hallucinogen
with a woman one-hundredth as vivacious and witty as Annette Bening, there would
be a million times less political turmoil in the world. As
it is phrased outside Presidential circles: "Dude, you need to get laid more
often." END |
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